Growing Pains
by Rae Simmons
Summary: AU My attempt at making a more complete and realistic account of Harry's childhood with the Dursley's and subsequent first year at Hogwarts. May sequel if there is interest. Warning: Graphic & Explicit Content and Language, Child Abuse... More information inside... Rated M for language and content, no joke.


AN: This story is AU because I feel the need to re-imagine a lot of what Rowling did to make it feel more honest, less like a "happily ever after" children's story. I am going into this story with everything I have and everything I am. There will be no holding back. Thus I feel the need to make note of some warnings. Not all of them will necessarily be included of course, and some might have to be added in later as I continue writing. With that in mind:

**WARNINGS: This story _may_ include EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, GRAPHIC CONTENT, CHILD ABUSE, SELF HARM, RAPE, SEXUALITY, SEXUALITY OF MINORS, CHARACTER DEATH, AND/OR SUICIDE**

****I don't really know where this story is going to go, however it is my intent to cover both Harry's childhood with the Dursley's and his first year at Hogwarts. If there is enough interest to inspire me I may even go beyond and cover the rest of his schooling.

Oh, and if this chapter completely ruins the Dursley's for you- You're welcome. ; )

Don't worry. It will get worse.

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_**Growing Pains**_

Prologue: The Beginning

Contrary to popular belief, Vernon Dursley was not actually the size of a whale. In fact, he had only stopped attending the boxing gym in Kensington in June of the last year so that he could spend more time with his newborn son Dudley. Vernon had been one of the top levelled members of the gym, all sinew and muscle as he was, and they had thrown him a heartfelt 'Farewell & Congratulations' party the day Dudley was born. That he had to leave half-way through to make it to the hospital in time seemed like fate.

Dudley had been born early the next morning, Monday the 23rd of June, at an impressive eight pounds four ounces. Vernon had never been more proud. When they had returned from the hospital the Dursley's had been surprised to tears to find a large banner hanging across the house with the words "Welcome Home Dudley!" as well as a gift basket filled with toys, clothes and diapers.

"Must've been someone from the gym," Vernon muttered gruffly. Petunia nodded with glassy eyes, but swallowed a lump in her throat when she realized that there was no note with the basket.

As Petunia had guessed, the welcome had not been left by anyone other than her sister, Lily Potter. Lily had gotten her husband's friend Remus to carry out the surprise for her since she and her husband had already gone into hiding after a meeting with Death Eaters that had nearly led to a miscarriage only a month before.

-0-0-0-0-

It was Sunday, November 1, 1981 and Vernon was nursing a coffee over the kitchen sink as he looked blearily out over the backyard. He could see some sort of fireworks going off several blocks over and was wondering to himself whether the chaps realized it was no longer Halloween. Upstairs he could hear his wife cooing to a fussing Dudley and decided he would head out and get some take-away for breakfast. Grabbing his keys in the hallway he called up to tell her what he was doing. Slipping into his shoes he turned around to open the door only to stop dead when he realized what was on the stoop.

"Petunia!" he called hoarsely, eyes never leaving the small bundle.

"Yes?!"

"Petunia, darling, come here- NOW!" He could hear her thudding down the steps until she stood behind him grasping the back of his shirt tightly.

"Vernon? What's-" she stopped abruptly as she looked down on the still quietly sleeping bundle. On top of the tightly wrapped baby was a letter, and on the yellowed paper in curvy emerald green script it read:

Vernon & Petunia Dursley

4 Privet Drive

Surrey

Vernon bent down carefully and snatched the letter up, standing quickly and tearing into the missive, eyes growing ever stormier as he scanned the message. Beside him Petunia gasped and began to shake. His arm snaked out of her grasp and wrapped it around her slim shoulders as he spit out bitterly, "Those bastards." They stood there like that for many moments just trying to understand. Eventually Petunia turned to look at her husband with searching eyes.

"Should I?" she wavered.

"Yes. Go ahead. You can put him in the guest room until we can figure out what we're going to do. I think we'll have breakfast here after all. I'll whip something up, and perhaps we should leave Dudders upstairs for now?"

"Of course," she replied bending down to pick up her nephew before turning back up the stairs slowly.

Vernon ran a hand over his face, firmly shutting the door behind him before sliding down it a little. Why? Why did they have to raise this brat? This child who was already causing his wife to suffer painful reminders of her childhood and was sure to only make it worse? Who the hell was this Dubbledore bloke or whatever to force his wife to live with the ghost of her sister? A younger sister who had only ever made her feel inadequate? It wasn't fair! Why couldn't someone else take him in, if he was so important why didn't anyone else want him? They already had Dudley; it wasn't like they needed another child. Vernon pushed himself back to his feet and went into the kitchen. His thoughts were still spinning as he chopped ham, onions, and bell peppers and threw them into a hot pan with some eggs and cheese. He often found himself making omelettes when he was upset, something about the satisfying thunk of the knife against the cutting board and the sizzle of butter in a hot pan. If Petunia hadn't insisted on cooking most of the meals Vernon might have learned to cook more, but if it made her happy to see him enjoying the food she made then that was all he needed.

He had just plated up the omelettes and was setting them on the table when she walked into the kitchen. She chanced a look up towards his worried face before quickly redirecting her gaze to the black and white linoleum on the floor. Slowly Vernon moved around the table to rest his hands on his wife's upper arms, rubbing them in a comforting manner until her watery eyes met his once again. Suddenly her arms were around his waist grabbing on to the back of his shirt for dear life. He let her hold him for long moments, one hand on her head and the other on her lower back until she finally made to pull away. He guided her into her chair before sitting down himself and resting his hand on hers.

"So what can we do? You're more familiar with those _people_; if they can even be called that. What are our options?"

"Oh, Vernon, I don't think we have any. Not if- if- if she's really dead," Petunia whispered brokenly, "and I think she must be because when I opened my jewellery bow this morning Mother's locket was right there on top and I know that _she _had kept it. Even though she knew how much it meant to me, how much I wanted it..." she stifled a sob.

Vernon looked down and took a bite of omelette though it was ash on his tongue. So, they were to be saddled with another child, and if the past was anything to go by then this child would end up making their poor baby feel just as worthless and inadequate as Petunia's sister had made his wife feel. Well, Vernon was not going to stand for that. He knew how much his wife had suffered from feeling less than her "gifted" little sister. Really, it was insulting that a _freak_ like her had been considered more valuable than his loving and caring wife. She had always been told that she was too tall, too skinny, and horse-faced. Oh, how he hated that word. Just because she didn't look like "perfect little Lily" she had suffered such shame and humiliation. Her sister was pretty, had been pretty, Vernon could admit, but his wife was the most beautiful woman he had ever met. When she smiled it lit up a room, and when she sat there like she was this morning it broke his heart. He saw the thought flash across her face and stood up sharply sending his chair tumbling backwards as he walked around the table to kneel in front of her taking her hands in his own.

"Don't. Just don't. Don't ever believe it would be better if it had been you. What would Dudley and I do without you?" Vernon's voice cracked shakily, a tear escaping to slide down his face and onto her pale hands. He kissed it away and looked up into her eyes, "I love you. No one else, just you," he promised.

"Oh Vernon!" she wailed as she collapsed into his arms. A sharp scream ruptured the moment and Petunia sat up immediately as she whispered "The babies!" both of them tearing up the stairs without a thought.

They looked quickly into Dudley's room to see that he was frightened but otherwise fine before they turned to the guestroom. They knew it wasn't Dudley who had screamed and that left only one option. Vernon cautiously opened the door and walked into the room first. There, in the middle of the bed, was their little one year old nephew struggling desperately against his tight wrappings with tears streaming out from painfully clenched eyes. A desperate whimper escaped his lips and Petunia fell to her knees with a look of anguish painted across her face.

Vernon leaned over carefully and freed the boy from the blanket, careful to avoid the flailing limbs before turning to put his hand on his wife's shoulder. Harry quieted a bit, shoving one tiny fist into his mouth, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat around the raw looking lightning bolt cut on his head.

"Petunia?"

"I don't know Vernon. I really don't. I'm going to go check on Dudley."

He helped her to her feet and she brushed off her skirt before scurrying back out the door of the smallest bedroom. Vernon cast one last glance at the now sleeping toddler before following his wife and closing the door behind him. There wasn't anything they could do for him now and he solemnly swore that no matter what that child did he would never allow for Dudley to feel less than special, less than perfect. No freak was going to be better than his son. He would not allow Dudley to feel like Petunia had, to be shunned for some child with some god forsaken "gift". He followed his wife into their child's bedroom and together they comforted and played with Dudley, bringing him downstairs for his own breakfast.

It was going to be hard, but they were going to get through this...

Somehow...

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Please leave a review, I'd love to hear your input.


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